First Adventures
by Horsegirl01
Summary: Legolas and the twins set out on All Hallows Eve to find the source of the attacks on the nearby villages, never dreaming they will discover yet another, horrible monster straight from the bowels of Mordor.


Summary: Legolas and the twins set out on All Hallows Eve to find the source of the attacks on the nearby villages, never dreaming they will discover yet another, horrible monster straight from the bowels of Mordor.

Written for the November Teitho prompt, but did not place. Reviews are welcome and most cherished, but please no flames.

A big thank you to everyone who takes the time to read my stories, comment on them, and favorite them. You all inspire me so much! :)

Rating: K+ for gore, battle situations and injuries

 **First Adventures**

An elf with long, dark hair stood by the trail, watching a smaller elf (an elfling really) carefully as he searched for tracks on the frost-covered ground. It was the season that humans would call fall. The leaves were falling and turning the ground a mixture of vibrant red and oranges, and the first frost had finally occurred a week hence, causing the ground to stiffen and the air to freeze.

The hard ground made it all the more harder to search for tracks of any type on the ground, for it was stiff and unyielding, leaving very little signs of any creatures passing by before. And yet, it made the perfect environment in which to teach a young being adequate woodland skills. If an elf learned how to track in such difficult conditions as this, then that elf would be an accomplished tracker indeed.

It was that very defense the dark-haired elf had offered up when explaining to the Lord of Imladris all the reasons the young elf should be allowed to accompany the Lord's sons as they attempted to track down the creature (or creatures) that had been creating havoc and devastation all across the lands surrounding Imladris' borders, including some of the nearby towns of men, where sadly even a few children had been recently killed and some of the adults attacked and left for nearly dead.

Elrond had not been happy about the suggestion, firmly vetoing it at first. But his sons, two lords in their own rights, identical twins with dark hair, had slowly but surely wheedled him down to a reluctant (extremely reluctant) acquiescence.

"Adar, what better time to teach Legolas how to hunt and track? None of us know what this creature is, and it will test his skills, as well as all of ours, to our highest abilities."

"That is what I am afraid of! No one knows what this is. It is not safe, especially for a young princeling in our charge. Legolas is too young, Elladan. His father, Thranduil, has entrusted him to our care for a time to rid him of the ever-present shadow of Mirkwood, not to bring it closer to him! Choose a different way to teach him tracking, but not this way!" Hands clasped behind his back, the elder elf had turned away to face the expansive window lying open in his office, the balmy breeze blowing in from the outside and bringing a whiff of the numerous waterfalls abounding in the beautiful elven haven.

"Adar, it is precisely that reason that he does need to learn in this manner! Teaching him tracking when there is not an element of danger will prove to be of little use to him in the horror-filled reality of Mirkwood's darkness. Give him a taste of it now, where Elrohir and I will be nearby to watch over him and keep him safe. Then, he may take his learned skills back to his own realm where it may save his own life, and possibly those of many others." Elladan followed his father to the window, looking out over the balcony as he tried to spot his twin brother in the gardens below, where he was keeping watch over the sensitive wood elf in question.

Elrond turned to face his eldest son, watching his long, black hair flow gently in the breeze and sweep across his fair features. The Noldor twins could rival nearly any elf in Arda for beauty. Their frames were tall and thin, yet well-defined and muscular. Their dark hair and ability to adopt a fierce visage belayed their heritage on their father's side, but their fairness of face and lithe bodies portrayed their mother's gentle looks.

Elrond well knew that the fairness of his sons was deceptive to the evil creatures of the dark, for they could rival the most formidable warrior in Arda when riled. Valiant they were, and courageous to a fault. Legolas could have no better protectors than these two warriors, and Elladan had made an excellent point. Up until now, it was only the small children that had lost their lives, though some of the adults had been severely wounded. Yet, they were men, not elven warriors. The chances of Legolas actually getting hurt in such a hunt amongst other superior elven warriors was slim indeed.

He sighed, placing his hands on the window's edge in front of him as he turned back to the view of the gardens, his eyes subconsciously searching for his other son and the young elf currently in debate. "I will allow it," he said finally, his voice tinged with reluctance. He could not lock the youth into a box and forever keep him safe, so perhaps this was the lesser of two evils: A little danger combined with comparative safety.

Elladan broke into a grin, his exuberance making his features even fairer in the rays of the sun. "Hannon le, Ada! This will make Legolas most happy! I promise you, we will be careful with him."

Elrond smiled slightly, his brow creased with worry. A shadow had encompassed his fea at the thought of the bright, young elf being placed needlessly in danger. Perhaps he was just being overprotective, however. Perhaps it was just because of what day it was: All Hallows Eve. His premonitions and visions were not always certain, and the child needed some adventure in his otherwise mundane visit. He acknowledged Elladan's quick bow as the dark-haired twin rushed out of the study to tell the good news to Elrohir and Legolas, turning once more to his piled-up desk to busy himself with the more urgent matters of the Realm.

"Aye!" Legolas exclaimed, "I would much enjoy going on such an adventure with you! It will be wonderful to learn how to improve my tracking skills from such renowned trackers as the two of you, and what better way to spend All Hallows Eve than in the forest amongst the creatures of the dark?" The youth's eyes were alight with enthusiasm and excitement.

The twins exchanged a glance of surprise. They had quite forgotten that it was All Hallows Eve that night. Days tended to mix together among the grown elves, for they were but a blink of the eye to those who had seen several centuries. 'Twas not so with the young elves, however, and Legolas was more than young enough to still get excited about holidays of any type. A look of mischief crept into both the sibling's eyes at the same time, and they grinned a knowing grin to each other. Legolas was far too excited to notice, however, as he began to question the twins on what supplies he needed to pack.

Later, when it was but a few hours away from sunset, the three younger elves were gathered out in the courtyard, their horses loaded down with their packs and the reins in hand as they said hasty goodbye's to Elrond and Glorfindel. After hugging his sons and whispering several words of remonstration in their ears at too low of a pitch for the excited young wood elf to overhear, Elrond went over to the fidgeting Legolas, placing gentle hands on the youth's thin shoulders. Elrond met Legolas' gaze firmly, forcing the young elf to stand still and pay attention to him. "Be careful, little one. The creature you seek is unknown to me, and I would not wish any injury to come to you."

Legolas looked surprised at the elder elf, wondering at the strange tone of voice and the look of a sadness in the fathomless grey eyes that bespoke of dreadful secrets long born.

"I am always careful, my Lord, but I will heed your words well," Legolas said as he spontaneously wrapped his arms around the elder elf and gave him a hug. Then he was off to mount his horse, Glorfindel having said his farewells already and the impatience (as well as the keen excitement) of youth causing him to carelessly dismiss Elrond's worry as being needless and overprotective—something which he had grown quite accustomed to over the years. Indeed, it was so much a part of his life that the gratitude he felt towards the twins for 'springing' him from his prison, as it were, was immense and steadfast. He was truthfully surprised that the twins would deign to take him out when there was an element of danger involved, and he reminded himself to thank them more thoroughly at a later date.

After an enjoyable few hours of friendly bantering and meticulous lessons in tracking, the twins decided to pull up the horses and take a rest near one of the many small, flowing rivers sprinkling the land of Imladris. The excitement in the young elf's eyes was still displayed freely on the fair features, making his countenance shine like the much-loved stars in the night skies, bringing smiles of appreciation to the elder elves' faces. Grand it was for them to be in the presence of one so young and filled with purity and innocence. Though they were considered young for elves, they rarely saw an elf as young as this particular young prince, who was among the last born to the elves. He reminded them of all things good in Middle Earth, and why they continued to fight against the ever-encroaching shadow of Evil.

The trail they had been carefully following was showing signs of growing warmer and, as they reckoned it, they were only about a half a day behind the creature now. They still knew not what type of creature they were dealing with, though they had already spoken with several of the people from the nearby villagers that had gotten glimpses of it.

They had described it to be almost like a giant wolf, yet with fangs so large it could easily crush the body of a child in half, bearing an evil aura and yellow eyes flicked with red. The neck was large as well, more so than any creature yet seen in Middle Earth by the sheltered villagers. The twins had never seen such a creature either, their only dealings with Arda's monsters consisting of the giant spiders when visiting Mirkwood, a few trolls and, of course the numerous orcs accumulating in the nearby mountains.

When asked later in the evening after camp was set up, Legolas replied that he had yet to see such a monster as this as well. "Perhaps it is some new creature the Necromancer has devised," he suggested with a wisdom far beyond that of his comparatively youthful age and looks. Elladan clapped him on the back, his features riddled with pride in his young friend and brother, then he leaned forward and ruffled the younger elf's hair, a movement that promptly earned him a hasty bath in the nearby stream and sent Elrohir into gails of laughter.

Elladan took it good-naturedly, still filled with pride over the antics of the younger elf, even if it were antics of mischief, and the two became enthralled in a large-scale water battle. It came to a close when Elladan threatened to drag Elrohir into the water, and he laughingly pleaded for mercy as he backed away with hands held up. "Nay! It is time for dinner. Then we must sleep so that we can start tracking again early in the morning. Forget you our mission, brother?"

Elladan deferred to his brother and grabbed the water bucket to go retrieve some water for heating on the fire. Legolas hastily squeezed out water droplets from his soaked tunic, then went to fetch some firewood for the self-designated cook of the trip—Elrohir. He had jokingly declared himself the official cook for the duration of their trip earlier in the day, claiming that he did not wish to eat burnt cooking for the next several days, enjoying the blush of embarrassment on the young wood elf's cheeks. 'Twas indeed true that Legolas had yet to learn to cook sufficiently without burning most of his fare, and Elladan had not the interest in trying to learn.

Elrohir twisted off the cap on his jug of flavoring that he had brought for the soup, sending the young wood elf a grateful smile when he carefully lowered several large pieces of kindling down before him. When Legolas squatted down beside him, eager eyes watching for a chance to learn more, Elrohir let the cap drop to the ground for a moment and swiftly pulled the younger elf into an embrace, his arm around the slim shoulders. He wrinkled his nose at the soggy fabric of the youth's tunic as it soaked into his own, making the younger elf laugh his tinkling, musical sound that filled the small clearing with happiness and sunshine.

Elrohir doted on Legolas to extremes sometimes. The gentler of the twins, he could not help but be drawn to the sensitive and pure spirit of the so-young Sylvan elf, and he chose it show it with overt physical gestures like hugs and constant reassuring squeezes. The younger elf was grateful for the affection, being of a shy rapport himself and not inclined to initiate such contact, but sometimes he could feel a little smothered by the attentions of the elder elf. He wondered if this was what having an older brother would be like, since he was an only child. He supposed real siblings sometimes got frustrated with each other as well, and he did not get to see the twins nearly enough, so never made any complaints about it, choosing instead to bear it with good grace, as was his habit in most instances.

Elladan came back then, jokingly threatening to dump Elrohir in the lake water, stating it wasn't fair that he was the only one dry, and the three enjoyed a small but enjoyable dinner together, then set the watches and prepared their bedrolls for sleeping. The trees were too sparse in the area to take their rest in the treetops, though the twins were not as comfortable with the notion as the tree-loving wood elf.

Legolas merely shrugged good-naturedly at losing the let's-sleep-in-the-trees argument, enthusiastically taking his watch for the beginning of the night and sitting up against one of the larger trees in the area, bow in hand and arrow notched at the ready. He was simply grateful that the twins included him in the watch at all. They normally considered him too young for such a valuable assignment. The fact that they allowed him to choose one this time showed that they were beginning to consider him more grown up, a spot he had fought for valiantly over the past several years. He knew, of course, that they had forced him to take the first watch because it was the easiest and meant he would get more peaceful sleep, but _any_ watch was better than none!

At was barely an hour into his watch that Legolas' heart jumped in his chest. It had grown as black as coal in the little encampment, and despite the keener night vision of the elves, Legolas' nerves were slightly jittery. He could not quite forget that this was All Hallows Eve, and the twins had been generous in retelling some of their scariest adventures to the wide-eyed elfling. That, coupled with the fact that there was some unknown creature out there, caused Legolas to jump nearly a foot into the air when a loud "bang" resounded right beside his left ear. He had been facing outward, and had neglected to check and make sure the twins were really in repose.

Scrambling back a few feet from where he had fallen when he jumped, Legolas grabbed his twin knives in hand, ready to defend the small group with every ounce of his being. His cheeks flushed in embarrassment when he saw both twins rolling on the ground in laughter right beside the log where he had been perched for his watch. "Ha, ha, ha, Legolas! It is the ghost of All Hallows Eve, come to frighten you to death…" choked Elladan as he finally sat up, tears of mirth in his eyes.

"Very funny," Legolas muttered as he stood and placed his knives back in their holders, pushing aside with reluctance the idea of burying them in the twins' big mouths instead. A thought struck him, causing his cheeks to flush even darker. "Is this the only reason you gave me a watch, to play a stupid prank on me?" His eyes showed hurt lurking deep within the blue depths.

The laughter stopped immediately and the twins shared a look, both getting to their feet and walking over to the youth, each placing a hand on Legolas' shoulder. "Nay, Legolas," Elrohir assured in a serious tone. "We trust you to keep the watch, young one. We just could not resist a little joke, especially considering what night this is."

"Aye," Elladan grinned. "'Tis better than a _real_ monster, after all!"

Legolas sighed, his mouth twitching into a slight grin as he good-naturedly relented. It _had_ been a good prank, he must admit, and apparently he would still get to keep a _real_ watch, so no real harm done other than the slight heart attack he had been given. He went back to his log to take up his watch once more. With another slight apology and grins, the twins retreated to their bedrolls, lying down and going to sleep in earnest.

Senses heightened and eyes alert for any movement, the young elf settled into what was possibly his first "real" watch he had ever been allotted. It was perhaps the excitement of such an important duty and the recent prank that had left him in a slight daze, allotted with an adventure-filled day with the twins—his ultimate role models and heroes—that left Legolas in a state of slight disbelief, one that proved to be dangerous to all of the elves that night.

It cannot be said that Legolas was to blame for what happened, for he had no experience whatsoever with the sounds these strange new creatures of Mordor made during their hunts. Nor could he tell any difference between them and the other, smaller creatures of the forest surrounding their little encampment. It was perhaps the reenactment in his mind of some fond memory earlier in the day that impaired his normally keen ability to sense impending danger.

Whatever the reason, Legolas was sitting perched on the lowest branch of the large tree across from the twins when it happened. He took a quick glance up at the beautiful lights of the stars shining down through the branches, and suddenly he was lying face up on the ground, his upper shoulder and the side of his chest throbbing so badly that the stars appeared right before his eyes and he had to blink multiple times to chase them away enough to see beyond the shining lights.

Unable to comprehend what had happened, he lay there in stunned misery for a moment, gasping against the sudden onslaught of pain. _I must have fallen from the tree_ , he thought dazedly, muffling a groan as another sharp stab of pain swept through him. It had all happened so quickly that he had not even let loose a single scream or groan, the breath knocked out of him and rendering him voiceless.

Before he could quite grasp what had really happened—he was a wood elf, he simply didn't fall out of trees—a long, muzzled face blew a warm breath down his neck as it appeared in front of his eyes.

Legolas blinked, following the dark nose and muzzle along the jaw line to see large, yellow fangs sticking through the grinning mouth. _A wildcat perhaps, or a bear_ , was his first thought, immediately banished by the appearance of a narrow but large-browed face beyond the gaping mouth—a face so hideous and mutilated beyond any animal he had ever before seen that not even his wildest imagination could have conjured it up. _Ai_ , he thought as a huge paw with even huger claws pressed down upon his chest, raking slowly down his already throbbing ribs and tearing long slashes in the fabric of his tunic (and in his chest), _I am face to face with a Balrog._ _Glorfindel shall never believe this!_

Legolas had never seen a Balrog before, but the stories built up around the mighty Balrog Slayer seemed similar to what this creature appeared to be, for a more fearsome sight he had never seen! He opened his mouth to alert the twins, suddenly remembering that HE was the one on watch duty and it was up to him to sound the alarm, when the abrupt weight of the monster pulling down and out with his claws wrought a low cry from the before-frozen lungs. _It burns, it burns_ , he thought incoherently as the dirty, germ-infested claws raked deep, heavy wounds into the already tortured ribcage, tearing through a couple of the ribs in the process with a grinding clatter of bones.

Light though the cry was, it was enough to awaken the twins, who were experienced enough hunters and warriors that any sound of trouble, no matter how light, would instantly bring them to attention. They were awake and standing in a matter of a few seconds, grey eyes darting all around the enclosure in an attempt to locate the younger elf—and the trouble they immediately sensed.

When they saw the loathsome creature of the dark about to make the beloved wood elf its tasty meal of the evening, they leapt forward with bloodcurdling war cries, weapons immediately in white-knuckled hands and at the ready. With two mighty, deadly swishes of the twin blades, the creature sunk heavily on top of Legolas, its blood spilling all over the unlucky elfling, soaking his tunic and suitably hiding the elven blood that had stained the before-green shirt.

With a cry of anguish, Elladan yanked the creature off the stunned elfling, Elrohir immediately jumping into place on his knees beside the traumatized wood elf and running his hands over the thin body. He was distraught, however, and his normally keen healer's senses missed what he would have been able to spy a mile away under other circumstances—and if it hadn't been the treasured elfling he was distraught over.

There was so much blood already from the dead creature that he did not detect the copious amounts of elven blood spreading over the stained tunic; Legolas was so stunned from the entire ordeal that he did not react in any way to the added pain the younger twin's touch caused, leading Elrohir to mistakenly believe he _had_ no pain; and, to make matters worse, the bulk of the creature's blood had spilled over the broken ribs, clotting in huge chunks and hiding the true damage beneath the bloodied mess.

In short, Elrohir mistakenly thought Legolas was fine and, when Elladan stepped back into view, rage on his fair features, Legolas instantly decided that he had better remain fine if he valued his young life. And knowing how angry his beloved father would get if anything happened to him, he decided to err on the side of caution. He had only seen Elladan angry a handful of times during their sojourns together. _All_ of those times the anger had not been aimed at him, and _all_ of those times he had counted himself extremely lucky that this was the case. This was _not_ one of those times now, he suspected with a twinge of pain as he pushed himself into a sitting position. He did not quite reach his goal, however, for strong hands on the front collar of his tunic completed the job for him, yanking him up so harshly and slamming him back against the tree that he had fallen out of that he had no breath left to even breathe.

Legolas saw stars, literally. His head exploded into a mass of colors as the broken ribs and slashes on his shoulder and chest began to pound with abandon. Elladan began to yell at him, but Legolas could only make out partial words, like "irresponsible," "thought we could trust you," "careless," and the rest were a mumbled mess. He made out enough though, and by the time his vision finally cleared and Elladan had slowed his tirade, it was enough to make Legolas feel a rush of embarrassed heat spread across his cheeks, then a sense of injustice flashed through his weakened body. How could Elladan treat him like this? Did he not understand what had happened? He might have been a little absorbed, but this monster was like no other he had ever seen, and he was unprepared for its sounds and noises.

Tears rushed to his eyes at Elladan's continued rant, the elder's grip on his shoulder sending shooting waves of pain up and down his arm and chest and nearly bringing him to his knees—or it would have had Elladan not been retaining such a firm grip.

Legolas could bear it no longer. He spared one look at Elrohir, who was still sitting crouched on the ground, looking up at his twin with worried eyes. At least Elrohir did not appear to be angry with him, but he could not take Elladan's treatment any longer, and with a strength pulled from his innermost reserves, he pushed against Elladan's chest with all his might and bolted into the forest, brushing his good arm across eyes that were beginning to drip with tears as he ran in a stumbling fashion amongst the trees.

"Legolas! Daro!" This was Elrohir, and the young elf could detect the worried note of despair in this beloved brother's voice. He ignored it though, anxious to get away from the angered Elladan and simply hide for a while in peace and quiet. Wounds forgotten for the moment, the young elf pushed through brambles and thickets, crossed over broken logs and small fields of grass, and artfully albeit clumsily dodged numerous trees, both large and small, in his frantic quest for tranquility.

* * *

Elrohir stood slowly up from the ground, watching the fleeing youth with disbelief. He stepped towards his older brother, hands clenching tightly as his features paled in anger. The gentle twin did not normally show such anger, but his face was filling with a rage so extreme that the still angered Elladan gave him one look and stepped backwards with widened eyes, his hands held up in front of him in a pleading manner.

"How could you?" Elrohir hissed, taking another step closer. "How could you frighten him so? And we do not even know for certain that he is hale. He could have injuries from this loathsome creature, and he is gone now… into the forest. It will be a long while before we have any hope at all of finding him!"

Elladan stepped back, pushed against the tree trunk he had just been holding Legolas against. "Peace, brother," he said as his temper began to dim in the face of his younger twin's unusual and apparently justified explosion. "You did not find any wounds on him. Let him pout for a while, and when he comes back, rest assured I will be giving him a punishment. He was too careless, and he needs to learn caution."

Elrohir pinned his brother to the tree by placing his hands on either side of Elladan's face on the tree trunk, his nose nearly touching the elder elf's. "No, you will NOT!" he gritted out. "'Twas merely a lapse in concentration, not a serious offense or death penalty, and NONE of us knew what noises we were searching for. He is just an elfling, Elladan." His voice softened then, the anger dissipating from the younger brother's face, though he still kept his hands in place. "I know how much you feared for him, brother, for I felt the same way. Do not mistake fear for anger, I beg of you, or you will turn him away from us. He is just a child."

Elladan sighed, his cheeks flushed, as he met his brother's eyes and saw the seriousness in the identical grey gaze. He lowered his head in shame, finally beginning to realize that he had once again allowed his temper to get the best of him. Elrohir's words held truth in them. Legolas might fear him _too_ much now, and might turn away from desiring to spend time with them. He could not bear it if that happened, for the youth was as much a younger brother as Elrohir, and more in need of protection in his eyes due to his youthful age.

"You are right, brother," he admitted finally when Elrohir had lowered his hands and gone a few paces away to look off into the forest. "Come, let us go search for the wayward elfling, and mayhap he will forgive me again."

Elrohir looked sadly at him, his hands lying limply at his sides. "I fear we will not find him—not without some help at least, and I do not know if the trees will help us."

Elladan frowned. The elfling had probably alerted the trees to his predicament, and the trees would keep any secrets they held about his presence. "At least try," he begged his brother. "You have always been better at communicating with them than I. Please try to find out what direction we should go in at least. Perhaps he did not go far after all."

Elrohir snorted, knowing the main thing on the young elf's mind would be to get as far away from the focus of dissension as possible. He went back to the main tree, the focal point of all the damage so far, and placed an unsteady hand palm first against the rough bark, closing his eyes.

After a few moments of communing with the tree—moments in which the old being made known his displeasure at the inappropriate treatment of the woodland prince of the forest—Elrohir finally turned back to his waiting and watching brother. "He went in that direction," he pointed to the left of the clearing, "and is still there now, according to this wise old oak."

Elladan shouldered his weapons and set off immediately towards the left, Elrohir quickly falling into step beside him. "How did you get him to tell you?" the elder brother pondered as they walked briskly amongst the trees.

Elrohir smiled grimly. "I merely told him that Legolas was undoubtedly injured in some way, and that your reaction was a mistake, that we truly cared for the elfling." Elladan nodded once, and they focused their attentions on making their way as swiftly as possible through the forest in the direction they hoped they would find Legolas.

* * *

Legolas had to stop. His forgotten wounds had been remembered with a vengeance and he had begun to stumble more and more often until he finally tripped over a tree root and went crashing to the ground, gaining more new cuts and scrapes as a result. Picking out a tree, he made his unsteady way over to it, clutching at the lowest branch in preparation of climbing it. The movement sent a fierce stab of pain through the side of his chest, though, and he knew that he would be unable to climb _any_ tree at present.

Making the best of an already horrible situation, Legolas leaned carefully down to rest with his back against the same tree, laying his head against the bark and closing his eyes. The darkening shadows that had been threatening more and more consistently suddenly seemed most welcome as they pulled him into a light unconsciousness.

What felt like merely moments later, but in reality was several hours, Legolas was jarred awake by something warm and hard pressing against his chest. His first thought as he awoke was that the twins had found him. He was unpleasantly surprised, however, when he managed to open his eyes and came face to face with a snarling, fanged wolf-like creature. Gulping back a gasp, Legolas' eyes darted all over the small enclosure, looking for (and finding) more signs of impending trouble.

The other creature back at the campsite must have been a scout only, for five more of the creatures were creeping into Legolas' small, temporary encampment, making a total of six of the fearsome creatures he would have to now battle, and his previous wounds were throbbing unmercifully.

Legolas gulped, wishing his last moments with the twins had not been fraught with anger. He hoped they would understand why he had run off so carelessly and not hold it against him. He hoped they would tell his father he had died a warrior's death, though caught off his guard again was not the most honorable way he could think of to die. Most of all, he hoped they would know that he still loved them just as dearly, that the fight and angry words meant nothing to him in the larger scheme of life.

All this was thought out in the space of a scant few seconds, then Legolas yanked his twin knife from beside him where he had laid it earlier, ignoring the shooting waves of pain that raced through his shoulder and arm, and plunged it fiercely into the creature's large paw that was holding him firmly planted against the ground.

With a scream that reverberated in the small clearing, the animal snapped back his large paw, tumbling back against the ground in pain and rage. Legolas had barely a second to react to being freed, using it to push himself weakly up into a standing position, his back pressed against the tree. At least he would have one side he was protected on, leaving him only to watch out for his front and sides. Also, the steady structure would hopefully help him stay on his feet, his limbs still shaky and unable to fully support his weight. The other animals were on him then, snarling in rage at the hurt to their pack mate and determined to kill the being that had harmed him.

With only one knife, Legolas barely managed to press the first two creatures back, slashing wildly at the creatures' chests and leaving large, red cuts on both of them. It was not enough to kill, but it was enough to distract them and send them tumbling back to the side. Unfortunately, another of the creatures took immediate advantage of Legolas' distraction with the two in front, leaping in and biting down hard on the same shoulder that had already been clawed.

With a weak cry, Legolas stumbled to his knees, frantically reaching his knife back in an effort to loosen those sharp teeth delving into his vulnerable skin and threatening to tear his arm off completely. Spots danced before his eyes, his vision darkening and the forest swirling maddeningly in front of him.

Just when Legolas thought all was lost and he was going to succumb to the creature holding him so fiercely in his mouth, a loud, angry yell rang into his muffled hearing and a dark blur flashed before his darkened eyes. He felt the pressure loosen from his shoulder almost immediately, hearing the sound of death screams and bloodied gurgles ringing uncertainly in his hearing.

The rest was unknown to him for, when the teeth were ripped from his shoulder, his vision darkened completely and he lost the battle to stay conscious, sinking with closed eyes to the ground in a crumpled heap.

* * *

The twins had been tracking the young elf for several hours, shocked that he had managed to get so far away in such a short time. They were beginning to lose all hope of finding him when their keen hearing picked up the sounds of snarling in the not so close distance. With a speed that only the elves could accomplish, the two lithe figures took to the trees immediately, trusting the beings of the forest to assist them in finding the young woodland prince in order to help him.

The trees enabled them to overcome the distance in just a few, heart-thumping minutes, and they came to the clearing that sent their hearts tumbling the rest of the way to the bottoms of their boots as they entered a scene straight from Mordor.

A total of six of the fearsome creatures were gathered around one, smaller, blonde-headed elfling, his back pressed up against the tree and only one knife held weakly in his hand. These creatures were even larger than the other one, whom the two elves immediately deduced must have been a scout, a weaker member of the hunting team. They could not even be exactly termed as large wolves, for their huge size almost equaled that of a bear. Yet their lean bodies and gaping fangs gave them a deadliness that far surpassed either forest creature.

The two elves took all this in within a short second as they jumped down from the trees to join the fray, watching in a daze as two of the creatures leapt toward the weakened Legolas (He WAS hiding an injury, thought Elrohir angrily) and he slashed at their chests, managing to push them back just as another creature clamped down on his shoulder. Hearing the soft cry of their younger friend sent waves of rage through the two elves as they pulled out their swords and jumped into the group of wolf-like creatures already slashing.

Elladan made for the ailing Legolas, pushing his sword easily through the throat of the attacking creature and breathing a sigh of relief as it slumped to the ground, loosening its hold on Legolas' shoulder and thankfully leaving his arm still intact. With a quick nudge of his foot to make sure the creature was dead, Elladan turned to assist his twin in disposing of the creatures, only to see Legolas slump lifelessly to the ground out of the corner of his eye.

Seeing that the normally gentle twin had already disposed of the other two healthy creatures and was now facing the apparently injured ones, one of which was unable to rise from the ground, nursing a bloodied paw, Elladan turned back to Legolas, falling to his knees beside the unconscious elf. "Ai, elfling! What has my anger caused now?" There was so much sadness in his voice that it would have brought tears to Legolas' eyes had he been awake to hear.

As it was, he was beyond the world of hearing, immersed in a peaceful world of darkness, far away from the fierce pain that would be assaulting him if he were awake.

Elladan laid a shaking hand against the young elf's forehead, smoothing back ruffled blonde hair and frowning at the heat he felt there. Elrohir had been right then. No wounds gained now would have given Legolas a fever. He must have surely been injured before. And it was Elladan's angry tantrum that drove him away from them in this state.

Simmering in a world of guilt, the elder twin hastily unfastened the youth's bloodied tunic, wincing at the large clumps of the dead creatures' blood that caused the fabric to be stiff and unyielding against his questing fingers. He was finally able to get the garment off, hoping he had not caused too much pain to the unconscious youth in the process. With the bare torso exposed to his seeking eyes, Elladan blanched at the sight.

Legolas had multiple wounds all over his chest, shoulder, and sides. Large claw slashes raked across the entirety of his chest, shoulder, and side, and there appeared to be more serious damage beneath as Elladan spied the swollen areas over the thin ribcage. The shoulder was quite literally a mess, and Elladan did not even have to touch it to know that it was most assuredly broken—and probably in several places. It was seeping blood at a steady rate from the large teeth marks that appeared to have nearly punctured through the entire shoulder, and several of the slashes across the youth's chest looked highly infected, most likely brought on from the creatures' filthy claws.

It was the lesser scrapes and bruises on the youth's back that saddened Elladan the most, however, as he recalled the moment he had slammed Legolas back against the tree in his fit of rage. He had most assuredly caused these, for there were no teeth marks or claw marks in this area.

Feeling rather like weeping at the pitiful sight of the seriously injured elfling—one who had been left in his charge to be protected—Elladan hastily grabbed his waterskin from where it was attached to his belt and the small medical pack that he and Elrohir always wore on their belts and proceeded to gently clean the fiery-looking wounds.

Elrohir was beside him then, falling to his knees and panting heavily. "Thank you for your help, brother," he gasped out as he laid his hands on his knees and leaned over slightly, trying to catch his breath. Elladan turned to swiftly assess him, reassuring himself that his brother remained unharmed before turning his attention back to the ailing wood elf.

"Surely you are not saying that such an accomplished warrior as yourself would have trouble dealing with a few injured, overgrown wolves?" Elladan teased, trying to gain some distraction from his guilt and worry.

"Pah!" spat Elrohir. "Move over, brother, and let this superior healer deal with the elfling!" He shoved Elladan, nearly unbalancing him from his stance over Legolas.

Sending him a glare, Elladan scooted over, giving his brother room to work. Much as he hated to admit it, Elrohir _was_ the better healer of the two of them. Normally Elladan was the more accomplished warrior, though he had unwittingly left Elrohir to do the task this day.

Elrohir loosed a light groan when he assessed the damage to this beloved younger brother, quickly setting to work applying his magical healing skills and making the younger elf as comfortable as possible. When he was done treating and bandaging all the wounds, Elrohir removed his own cloak and wrapped it around the elfling, lifting the still unconscious youth in his arms as Elladan grabbed the elfling's weapons and checked the area to make sure both all the creatures were dead and that they had not left anything behind.

Then, the two worried brothers made their way back to their small encampment where it had all started, preparing themselves mentally for a long, difficult night with a fevered, sick elfling.

* * *

It was not until halfway through the long, discouraging night that Legolas finally awoke, Elrohir's persistence paying off. Foggy blue eyes blinked up at him in confusion as the younger twin sat beside the elfling with his hands over Legolas' heart and head, pouring his healing energy into the battered child.

"Hello there," he smiled gently at the sight of the large blue eyes watching him carefully. "You gave us quite the scare, elfling. How are you feeling now?"

Legolas blinked several more times, then his eyes lowered as he tried to get a glimpse of his many aches and pains and where he was currently resting. Recognizing the encampment and deciding that he was still alive after all, almost reluctantly, he lifted weary eyes filled with remorse back to meet Elrohir's steady gaze. "Goheno nin," he muttered weakly, his good hand reaching out to clutch Elrohir's sleeve. "I should not have run away like that…"

Elladan stepped into view, his grey gaze cloaked and assessing. "No, you should NOT have… but neither should I have lost my temper with you, nor should I have been so rough with you. I am sorry, child. I hope you can see fit to forgive me someday…" He dropped to one knee beside Legolas, laying a hand on the elfling's good arm, his pleading eyes showing Legolas how sorry the elder elf was.

Legolas' eyes opened wide in shock. Elladan was apologizing to him? "Nay…!" he cried earnestly. "It is _I_ who did the wrong. I should have been paying more attention… I am a miserable excuse for a warrior… You owe me no apology, Elladan!"

Elladan's eyes darkened and his face grew grim. "Do not _dare_ to cast this blame onto yourself, elfling!" he snapped, causing Legolas to shrink back slightly in fear from his anger. "I _know_ where the blame for this entire sordid mess lies, and it most certainly is NOT with you! I will hear no more on this matter, except to hear your forgiveness, if it is offered…" His anger vanished as abruptly as it had come, his grey eyes once more taking on a pleading look as he waited to hear the forgiveness his heart so yearned for. He direly hoped that his relationship with the youth would not be ruined because of this.

Instead of answering, Legolas merely lifted his good arm up, a gesture for a hug, and Elladan, choking back a sob that he dearly hoped the others would miss, scooped the child up into shaking arms, hugging him as tightly as he dared around the child's many injuries. Legolas burrowed his face into Elladan's familiar shoulder, taking in a deep breath of the essence that was strictly Elladan, a combination of woods and sunlight. Despite the anger that had been aimed at him, Elladan meant safety to the sick youth—safety and comfort, with a spice of protection.

Elladan was the fierce protector of the two, and no matter what happened between them, Legolas knew he could always depend on the elder twin to come to his defense in any situation just as quickly as his temper sometimes flared. "Of course I forgive you," he muttered into Elladan's tunic, feeling the grip around him tighten ever so slightly in acknowledgement. Elladan was not able to speak around the lump of gratitude lodged in his throat.

Elrohir scooted closer then, having relinquished his grip on the elfling for Elladan's sake. Meeting his brother's eyes, he pulled Legolas gently into his own embrace, needing to feel the conscious youth's heart beating against his chest and see for himself that the elfling was alive and comparatively well, for he knew now that the child would likely survive his injuries, something he had not been certain of during the long hours of the night.

As Legolas clutched Elrohir's tunic, he realized how lucky he was to have these two, fierce protectors in his life. Elrohir was another one that would not hesitate to protect him, though his nature tended more towards gentle 'spoiling' than did Elladan's. Legolas loved both brothers equally, and both were special in their own, different ways. He fell back into a light sleep thinking about all the many adventures they had had together over the years, a peaceful smile on his face.

As the twins looked down at the sleeping youth, their faces softened in love and happiness, they exchanged mental thoughts on how glad they were that the child seemed unaffected over the entire matter. Either Legolas did not remember the extent of Elladan's anger, or his generous heart was simply unable to bear them any grudges. No matter the reason, they were grateful for it, and Elladan determined to rein in his temper more thoroughly around the elfling from this moment on.

Though Legolas was on the mend, the brothers knew they needed to get him back to the safety and comfort of the Last Homely House before the cold winds and rain set in. They could detect a cold spell coming from the signs in the air and the forest, and it would do little good on a weakened and injured elfling to be exposed to the elements any longer than necessary. The next morning, they packed up all their belongings on the longsuffering horses, putting Elrohir's packs together with Legolas' on his chosen horse and Elrohir mounting on his own horse. Then, Elladan handed up the youth into Elrohir's waiting arms, ignoring the embarrassed protests: "I can ride by myself…"

"Hush, child," Elrohir said gently, smoothing experienced fingers over Legolas' forehead until he relaxed back into a light sleep, two splotches of embarrassed red still on his cheeks, causing Elladan to smirk as he mounted his own horse. If the situation weren't so serious, he would lord this over Legolas' head the rest of his long years.

The trip back was luckily uneventful. They made much better time, since they weren't trying to track any creatures. Their Ada would have to be warned that there were new and fearsome creatures lurking around, apparently having come straight from the ruins of Mordor. Though they knew it not now, they had all just had their first encounter with wargs, the creatures the orcs were training as their own mounts. It would be many years before they encountered both devilish spawn working together in battle, so for now they called them by the term "wolfbears," a term that would be used in the elven community until the real name was discovered.

It was a weary threesome that made their way into the house under cover of the dark late that evening, a once-more-unconscious Legolas resting in Elladan's arms as they crept lightly down the hall towards the normal room Legolas occupied.

Having felt the presence of his sons, Elrond stepped out of his own chambers as they tried to tiptoe past his door, a robe tied hastily around his nightwear and a grim look on his face as he spied the unconscious elfling. He stepped up to Elladan immediately, muttering under his breath worriedly as he ran assessing hands over the youth's face and took his vitals.

He looked up at Elladan then, anger on his fair features. "You do realize that I was against this trip for this very reason?" he muttered softly, a bite to his words.

Elladan flushed. "I am sorry, Adar. I have failed in my responsibility."

Elrohir stepped forward, his face filled with sorrow. "As have I, Adar. Forgive me." He was unwilling to let his twin take the brunt of the blame.

Elrond's features immediately softened, his keen eyes seeing the lines of worry and fatigue on the twins' faces. "What is done is done," he said regretfully. "Let us hope that Thranduil still allows us to see the child after this mess." He took Legolas from Elladan's aching arms, and walked with him into Legolas' bedroom, laying him gently down on the bed and conducting a swift examination of his many injuries. He sighed then, rubbing his hand over his brow as he turned to face the twins. "You have done well in treating him. He appears to be out of danger now, but will need much rest and care so that he doesn't suffer a setback. Would someone care to tell me what exactly happened?"

The twins swiftly shared all they knew about the loathsome new creatures, and a light of alarm entered Elrond's eyes. "That is all we need—yet another strange and evil creature to fight against! I am glad that you killed the ones in that pack, at least. Let us hope we have no more encounters for a long while." He looked down at the still elfling, his face softening drastically as he rubbed a thumb across a pale cheek, marveling at the look of innocence on the child's face in repose. "At least not with this one anywhere in the vicinity," he amended, his eyes filled with love and concern.

Though Legolas recovered swiftly from his encounter, his frustration at his family's overprotective behavior only grew in the months to come. Whereas he thought they were protective of him before, they treated him like a fragile peace of glass now, and he realized how scared they must have been. It reminded him to use more caution in the future, and he worked hard to tone his warrior's skills, hoping that someday HE could be the protector of those who needed it.

Instead of causing the three "brothers" to drift apart as the twins had feared, it only served to bring them closer together—except for the rare moments when Legolas finally rebelled against what he called "over-smothering." They had been lucky and they all knew it. It reminded them all how blessed they were to have each other in their lives, and Legolas never harbored any ill will towards Elladan for his loss of temper that day, though he could honestly say he never experienced much anger from the elder twin after that, causing the instance to fade far away into a distant memory—a memory of one exciting adventure on All Hallows Eve.

 **Elvish Translations**

 _Penneth_ – Young one

 _Hannon le._ – Thank you.

 _Goheno nin_. – Forgive me.

 _Fea_ – Spirit

 _Ada/Adar_ – Father


End file.
